Interruptus
by BSparrow
Summary: There is no privacy in a prison. They should have known that. From a prompt by SepticLovebite, "A fledgling relationship they've done their best to hide, getting caught in the act".
1. Once Bitten

"Hush little baby, don't you cry..."

Carol swayed with the bundled infant, humming an old lullaby under her breath in a vain attempt to soothe her cries. Judith had always been a good baby but lately she'd been fighting sleep, wailing until her little scrunched up face turned red.

With a sigh, Carol bent to kiss the squalling infant on the forehead.

Warm fingertips, hesitant and calloused, brushed across the back of her neck and she turned in surprise to see Daryl walking by, crossbow slung over his shoulder. His eyes met hers, the slightest hint of a shy smile tugging at his lips.

She felt that brand new warmth spreading through her, that nervous giddiness like butterflies in her stomach. He nodded his head subtly towards her cell, chewing his ragged thumbnail. She'd come to realize he always did that when he was nervous.

She smiled, nodding once to let him know she understood.

* * *

Hours later she was lying awake, waiting for him. She knew he was on watch, knew she could go to him and sit beside him in silence, but he took the job very seriously. He didn't like to be distracted.

"You awake?"

His rough voice caught her off guard and she sat up straight, straining to see him through the heavy darkness. He was standing in the doorway, hesitating just outside it.

"You're early," she whispered.

She heard him snort, "Want me to come back later?"

Kicking the thin blanket off her legs, she crossed them under herself to give him room and patted the bed in invitation. He hesitated for a moment, she could almost picture him chewing his bottom lip, before coming to sit down beside her.

The thin mattress shifted under his weight, the frame squeaking ever so slightly, "Glenn and Maggie wanted to take over."

She chuckled at that. Of course they did.

As her eyes adjusted, she could see him sitting bolt upright, his shoulders stiff as she scooted closer to him. They danced this awkward, uncertain dance nearly every night now. He would come to her, seemingly wanting to be near her while still keeping his distance. As of yet, their fledgling relationship was unconsummated.

And maybe it always would be. Maybe one or both of them would die before she broke through his final defenses but still, she was pleased with their progress. He would let her hold him, kiss him, put her hand on his thigh, before fleeing to the safety of his perch.

Well, that wasn't the right way to put it really. He didn't flee. He'd pull away from her, his voice rough as he told her that he'd better go, that they both needed to get some sleep. She wasn't sure if it was because he'd never done it before or if he was just afraid of getting close to someone now, when the dead were walking the earth.

But it was okay, it wasn't all about sex. Sometimes they just talked and those were perhaps the nights she enjoyed the most. Mostly he listened, letting her ramble on, but sometimes he opened up enough to reveal the slightest hint of his childhood, of his past. She wasn't sure he meant to give anything away but the little details usually came out in a story about a deer he'd tracked or a truck he'd had before the world ended.

She could tell tonight wasn't going to be about conversation. He was still sitting stiffly at her side, staring at the floor with his hands in his lap.

Leaning in slowly, so as not to startle him, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He turned towards her, eyes seeking out hers, and she closed the gap between them to press her lips against his.

His mouth fell open as the breath rushed out of him, tension draining from his body, and she tugged him closer, her fingers tangling in his shaggy, tousled hair. His hand landed on her hip, light as a feather, as he turned to face her fully with his knee bent between them.

It was awkward, too many legs and too much space between them. She couldn't get close enough to wrap her arms around him like she wanted to, to feel his big hands splayed out across her back.

With a grunt of frustration, she climbed to her knees. Her lips tore free of his and he chased them blindly with his own, fingers tightening on her hip to hold her still. But she was climbing into his lap, straddling him on the bed.

He froze at the sudden, surprising invasion of his space, lips and hands stilling, but she wasn't deterred.

A shaft of silvery moonlight seeped in from the high windows above, catching on his face and casting shadows across his features. She looked down at him, into his startled blue eyes, and had to smile. He swallowed hard as she kissed her way across his cheek to his ear and shuddered as her tongue traced across it.

She felt his left hand rising to join his right on her hips, fingers wrapping around her hipbones as he instinctively pressed her down into his lap. She sank into him, feeling his chest rising and falling against her, his breathing coming quick and shallow. She felt like she was melting, warm and gooey, as he turned his head to capture her lips again.

She could feel him growing hard beneath her. Maybe tonight would be the night-

"Carol? Carol, Judith is-"

She let out a squeak of alarm as she heard Rick's voice right outside the cell, heard his footsteps approaching. She tried to pull away but it was too late and he was suddenly in the doorway.

"Oh!" he stopped short and then stumbled backwards, hurrying to cover his eyes with his hand, "Oh, I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't, I didn't know-"

Carol was dumped off Daryl's lap rather unceremoniously, falling onto her ass on the bed as he jumped to his feet.

She scrambled to her feet behind him, grabbing for his arm, "Daryl, wait!"

But it was no use. He shot out of the cell, not even daring to glance in Rick's direction. After a moment, she heard the loud grating of metal scraping against metal and knew he was gone, disappearing to brood in peace.

Well, there went all of their progress.

"I'm so sorry, Carol."

She turned to find Rick lingering outside the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"I-I didn't know…" he repeated, rubbing his hand roughly over the scruff on his chin.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, "It's okay."

He nodded, looking down at his feet for a moment before squinting up at her, "So…you two?"

She shot him a look that had him glancing away quickly.

"Uh, right," he cleared his throat, "Well, uh, I can't get Judith to take her bottle. Would you mind giving me a hand?"

She followed Rick to his cell, to where Judith was squirming and cooing in her makeshift crib. But her mind wasn't on bottles of milk. It was on the poor, damaged man roaming somewhere in the darkness, wallowing in humiliation.

She should have known something like this would happen eventually. It had been an unspoken agreement that they'd be discreet, that they were both past the stage in their lives when it was acceptable or necessary to act like animals in heat in front of everyone. But there was no real privacy in the prison. They should have known.

She had to smile a bit to herself as she thought of him, red-faced and kicking a wall somewhere to let out the anger and the frustration.

It might take a while but she knew him. He'd be back.


	2. Twice Shy

"If these walls could talk, huh?"

That only earned her a snort of amusement out of him.

They were sat up in the guard tower with their legs dangling off the side, feet kicking out in mid-air like a couple of kids. The moon was nearly full overhead, lighting the yard almost as clearly as if it were daylight. With the prison at her back, she could see a few stray walkers clawing at the fence but their moans were barely audible from this distance.

He'd been avoiding her and everyone else as well for the last few days. As far as she knew, Rick hadn't said a word to the others but that hadn't stopped Daryl from being silent and sullen. She'd missed his nightly visits and finally realized she'd have to take matters into her own hands if she wanted to pick up where they'd left off.

The guard tower was the best place to corner him. It was harder to escape.

"I guess I can see why Glenn and Maggie like it up here so well," she said with a smile, glancing over at Daryl out of the corner of her eye.

He shrugged, "Only place around here with any privacy."

"Mmhmm," she murmured in reply, wetting her lips, "And we could all use a little of that lately."

His eyes darted in her direction, cheeks reddening as he found her smiling at him.

"Don't you think so?" she prodded, leaning into him playfully until her bare arm brushed against his.

He swallowed hard but, after a moment, he nodded, "Reckon so."

She leaned against him again, drawn in this time by the warmth of his skin and the little sparks she felt whenever they touched. To her surprise, he pressed back against her, the pressure of his weight against her side widening her smile.

She could feel his muscles stretched tight, tense under his skin. Without much thought, she laid her head down on his broad, hard shoulder. She felt him stiffen at the contact, his breath catching, before he relaxed with a quick exhale through his nose that sounded almost like a laugh.

"It's a nice night isn't it?" she said quietly.

She heard him take a deep breath before murmuring in the affirmative. His body rocked ever so slightly as he kicked his feet out in front of him, eyeing the toes of his scuffed up boots in the moonlight.

"I wish we could stay up here forever," she added, nuzzling her face against the rough material of his shirt.

It smelled of his sweat but it wasn't unpleasant. It was masculine, primal.

"Yeah?" he asked hoarsely, kicking his feet together over and over.

She nodded against him and it wasn't much of a stretch for her to turn her head, pushing the frayed edges of his shirt aside with her nose to press a kiss on his shoulder.

His head cocked sideways as he peeked at her out of the corner of his eye, his feet falling still.

She met his eyes, her lips moving again. His skin was salty under her tongue, but it was also just a little sweet.

She had to giggle as an actual, genuinely amused grin softened his whole face, "You got a thing for shoulders or something, woman?"

"Well, yours _are_ very nice."

Another kiss and then he was wrapping his arm around her, tugging her a little closer. She scooted over until her hip was pressed against his. And then his chin dipped and his lips brushed against hers.

It was so quick and light as a feather that she wasn't even sure it had really happened, but the look on his face told her it had. He was staring straight ahead but she could see his eyes twinkling in the moonlight, his lips pressed together tight as if he were trying to suppress a smile.

His fingers gripped her waist tightly, his fingertips like hot coals through the worn cotton of her shirt.

"That was nice," she said, trying to keep her voice even.

He agreed with a quick dip of his chin before tilting his head back to squint up at the moon overhead. She tilted her face up towards his, parting her lips. But it didn't look like he could take a hint. He just stared up at the sky with the sort of intensity that made her think that perhaps he was pondering the meaning of life.

So she slid her hand up across his cheek, the rough stubble scratching at her fingertips, and turned his face towards hers.

"Kiss me again."

His eyes searched her face for a moment before coming to rest on her lips and then he tilted his head and covered her mouth with his own. It was just another quick brush of his lips but she slid her hand up through his hair, gripping it to hold him in place.

His arm tightened around her, his other hand coming to grip her upper arm. And she let him take the lead for the first time, let him find his way around her lips and tongue. It was a little faltering, a little uncertain, but he picked it up quickly and soon she was sighing into his mouth, her fingernails running across his scalp as his hand slid up from her arm to cup her face.

She was just pulling her legs up from the ledge, turning her body to face his, when there was a sudden rattling at the gate. The sound of metal scraping metal was so loud in the quiet night that they both jumped, his teeth biting down on her bottom lip.

She sought out the source of the noise desperately, fearing the worst, and found it was just a particularly large walker in a pair of overalls throwing himself against the gate. It rattled again, rocking on its hinges as the creature leaned its substantial weight into it.

They both chuckled breathlessly, the sudden surge of adrenaline leaving them a little woozy.

"I-uh-I better go take care of him," Daryl muttered, patting her knee before climbing to his feet.

She nodded, watching him gather up his bow, giving her a quick nod before he disappeared.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, running her tongue over the swollen flesh and tasting the metallic tang of blood.

The door opened far below and she saw him striding purposefully across the yard towards the gate. The moonlight glinted off the blade in his hand as he advanced on his prey. Even from her high perch, she could see his body was taut with the anticipation of plunging that blade into the soft skull of the big walker.

She could also see how nice his ass looked even in those dirty, baggy jeans.

She sighed, fanning her heated cheeks with her hand. Perhaps it was silly to be thinking like that at a time like this, especially when it was turning out to be such a fruitless endeavor. They just couldn't catch a break. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

Maybe it was sign, some kind of omen? Maybe someone up there was telling them it wasn't meant to be? Maybe she should just give it a rest?

She caught another glimpse of his ass as he bent over and imagined gripping it with both hands, pulling him closer as he thrust into her over and over and over…

Maybe she'd give it one more shot.


	3. Third Time's the Charm

He'd been at it all day.

She wasn't even sure what he was doing out there. From what she'd heard, he was producing nothing more than a lot of noise and muttered cursing.

At first she found it amusing. She supposed it was one way of letting off a little frustration, something she could certainly relate to, but it wasn't exactly the physical release she would have preferred.

She herself had been busy all morning, cooking and washing and mending and tending to Judith. But as the day went on, as sweat plastered her shirt to her body and the air inside the prison grew still and heavy, she started to get annoyed.

He'd gone out before breakfast and worked right through lunch, single-minded in his focus on completing whatever it was he was doing. He had to be close to passing out but he was still at it, the hardheaded fool. As annoyed as she was, she had to admire that kind of dedication and wonder if it could perhaps be applied elsewhere.

Stomping across the room, she snatched up one of the old cans they used for cups. It earned her a few odd looks from the others but she ignored them as she filled it to the brim with water.

He didn't even notice her as she emerged from the shadows of the prison, carefully balancing the full cup in one hand and shielding her eyes from the blinding afternoon sun with the other.

She stopped behind him, watching as he worked to untangle a length of chain. His shirt was wet with sweat, plastered to his body as if he'd just taken a swim. She knew most men would have stripped it off long ago and some of her annoyance faded as she thought of his reasons for keeping it on.

"Brought you some water," she murmured, taking a step back as he whirled around to face her.

"Ain't thirsty."

He turned away to get back to the task at hand but she wasn't having it.

"I don't care," she said firmly, extending the cup towards him, "Drink it."

He stopped and looked back at her, eyes wide with surprise. His jaw clenched and for a moment she thought he was going to dig his heels in and refuse, but he finally reached out and took the cup. She felt a pleasant little shockwave run through her as his fingertips brushed against hers.

Eyes locked on hers, he tipped the can back and drank the water down greedily, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

A few long, damp strands of hair clung stubbornly to his skin and she reached out to brush them off his forehead.

He paused, lowering the can to stare at her, his mouth still full of water. She smiled and he swallowed it down with a visible gulp, his tongue snaking out to lick a few stray droplets from the corners of his mouth.

She couldn't have felt less attractive, with sweat trickling between her breasts and her cheeks red from the heat, but still she felt a tugging in her gut as his eyes roamed her face, the tension between them shifting almost imperceptibly.

The sound of the metal can bouncing off the concrete startled them both and he looked away, the spell seemingly broken. He knelt down to pick it up and she found herself reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He looked up, squinting into the sunlight to see her face as she murmured, "Leave it."

A long moment passed as they stared into one another's eyes, hearts pounding.

And then he was standing, his fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist as he tugged her along behind him.

Anticipation had her feeling giddy and light on her feet. This time was different. She could just feel it.

They were almost to the cell block that had been cleared for the prisoners when she heard Maggie's voice call out, "Carol! Hey, Carol, you got a minute?"

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until it rushed out of her lungs, like a balloon deflating.

"Oh, not again," she muttered softly, shoulders sagging as she turned to face the woman.

This couldn't be happening again.

But then, to her immense surprise, Daryl barked, "No, she ain't."

Maggie looked taken aback. Carol felt Daryl's fingers tighten, saw Maggie's gaze drawn to his hand on her wrist. And then she saw understanding dawn on the woman's face as it all clicked.

Maggie fought to hide a broad smile, her lips twitching as she said, "Oh. Oh, right. It-it can wait."

And then Maggie turned on her heel and Daryl pushed the door open, dragging Carol along behind him.

"Well, that was rude," she told him with a smile, stopping to let her eyes adjust to the faint, shadowy light inside the empty cell block.

She heard him grunt in acknowledgement of her words, saw him wet his lips, and then his mouth was crashing down against hers. It was as though he was afraid he'd lose his nerve if he didn't kiss her right then and there.

His teeth colliding with hers caught her off guard and she pulled back gently, desperate not to hurt his feelings. She placed her hands on his face, brushing her thumbs over his rough cheeks, in an effort to guide him and slow him down.

He seemed to take the hint, pressing a much gentler kiss on her lips before finding his way to her neck, his hot tongue laving over her skin. She knew it must be salty and sweaty but he didn't seem to mind. His hands ran along the curve of her waist to rest on her hips, pulling them flush against his own. His trembling fingers were the only sign that he was nervous, unsure of himself when it came to her.

She couldn't hold back a breathy little sigh as his teeth nipped at her skin. His legs bumped into hers as he backed her against a metal table and she grabbed at him for support.

She laughed as her hands slipped off his sweat-slicked shoulders, "You know, if this was before, I'd have to make you take a shower first."

He froze, lifting his head to look her in the eyes. She felt his breath coming out in hot little puffs, saw the uncertainty etched into every line of his face, and then he was taking a step back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, reaching out to catch his hand.

He yanked it out of her grasp and reached up to swipe it through his damp hair.

"I wasn't thinkin'," he muttered, looking down at his soaked clothing.

"About what?" she replied quizzically, "Oh, about the shower? Come on, I was just teasing! Look at me, I'm disgusting too."

"No you ain't," he protested quietly, his words muffled as he chewed at his thumbnail.

"Yes, I am," she admitted, running her fingers over her sweaty, spiky hair, "But it's okay. If you don't mind, I sure don't."

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he mumbled, "It shouldn't be like this."

"What? You want moonlight and roses?" she asked, a playful smile spreading across her face as she closed the space between them, "Candles?"

He didn't protest as she wrapped her arms around him, tilting her head back to look him in the eye, "Maybe an Al Green record?"

"Al Green?" he repeated absently, his fingers playing along the hem of her shirt.

"Or Marvin Gaye," she suggested, pressing a kiss against his forehead as his hands slipped beneath her shirt to run up the curve of her back, dragging the thin material up with them, "Barry White?"

He let out a soft huff of amusement, shaking his head.

"Well, what kind of music did you like to make love to?"

She wondered if she might have said the wrong thing again but he just chewed his bottom lip, hands splaying out over her shoulder blades.

"Whatever was playing, I reckon," his eyes darted up to meet hers, moving across her face uncertainly as he added, "Weren't never anything special."

She nodded, smiling. She understood. Then their lips met and none of it mattered. Not the sweat or the uncertainty.

And this time, finally, there were no interruptions.

* * *

She came back down to earth with his damp shirt bunched up on the floor under her back and his hand pressed firmly over her mouth. His slick, sweaty forehead was pressed tight against hers, his breath hot in her face.

She sighed into his palm, running her fingers down his bare back. He shuddered in response to the light trailing of her fingernails down his spine, letting out a grunt of surprise as her hands slid lower and squeezed his bare ass, fingernails digging into the firm, muscled flesh.

He looked down at her and she smirked at him from behind his hand, eyes twinkling with mischief. And to her amazement, he let out a quiet little chuckle, his hand falling away from her mouth so he could cover it with his own.

They both jumped as a distant creaking sound echoed through the cavernous prison, bouncing off the concrete walls and floor. Their eyes met and she had to smile as he rolled off of her and started tugging at his jeans.

"Better get your clothes on before they all come marching in here and wanna have a damned tea party or something," he muttered, arching his hips up off the floor to pull his pants up over them, "With all that noise you were making before I could stop you, they're probably thinking a herd's coming through."

"Hey!" she feigned indignation, sitting up to scrounge around on the floor for her shirt, "You seemed to enjoy it."

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, a sly smirk tugging at his lips.

* * *

They walked back together, side-by-side, with no need for encircled arms or clasped hands. But she did enjoy the way his bare arm deliberately brushed against hers every few steps.

As she'd expected, their absence had been noted by everyone. She could see it all over their faces but they were wise enough not to say a word about it.

Well, most of them.

Glenn was standing in the doorway, eyeing them with a wide smile. Daryl nodded at him as they approached.

"Well, it looks like you're in a better mood," Glenn noted, stepping aside to let them pass.

Daryl snorted but Carol could see his cheeks growing red as he said, "What's it to ya, Short Round?"

"Nothing," Glenn answered quickly, "Nothing. It's just, you know, a nice change. To see you looking…well…_happy_."

"Happy?" Daryl asked incredulously and Carol saw his fists clenching at his sides as he took in the smiles on everyone's faces.

"Glowing, even," Glenn teased, wiggling his brows comically.

Daryl's mouth hung open for a moment and then he snapped it shut, growling deep in his throat as he stalked off.

"That's payback for the guard tower!" Glenn called after him, earning a very aggressively lifted middle finger in response.

Carol just shook her head, crossing the room to take Judith from a weary Beth.

"You know, I'm beginning to think that all of that attitude is just pent-up frustration," Glenn announced, "What he needs is to get laid more often."

The rest of the group tittered except for Carl who blushed furiously and ducked his head. Carol had to smile, looking after Daryl's retreating figure.

"I'll see what I can do about that."


End file.
